


The Watchers

by tasabian



Category: Smallville
Genre: Futurefic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-26
Updated: 2009-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:06:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasabian/pseuds/tasabian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark and Lex are finally together. Not everyone is happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Watchers

## The Watchers

by Vivian Darkbloom

<http://tasabian.livejournal.com/>

* * *

Lex Luthor is walking along a deserted street. His dark overcoat is wrapped tightly around him. Occasionally, he risks a glance over his shoulder to see if he's being followed. 

Above the cloud cover, Superman is watching him. 

Alone in the Watchtower, facing a wall of monitors, Batman watches them both. 

Lex turns a corner into an alley; he notices a shadow above him and begins to run. Superman swoops down and picks him up, effortlessly as a hawk scooping up a mouse. Lex struggles, or pretends to struggle, as Superman lifts him up above the clouds. 

Batman doesn't want to watch the next bit. But he pushes the button on the remote anyway. 

Lex has his arms around Superman's neck; he leans in and whispers something in his ear. Superman smiles. 

Bruce turns the monitor off. 

* * *

_Six months earlier_

Bruce sees it coming on the horizon long before the others, predicted it from the moment the Justice Lords turn up in Metropolis. And it all ends, just as Bruce had feared, at the Oval Office, with the angry simulacrum of Superman threatening to throw Lex into another dimension. 

"And you won't allow that, will you?" says the stranger with Clark's face. He has his hand around Lex's throat, and is holding him on the edge of a swirling chasm. "You won't allow your Earth President to be destroyed." 

Lex says coolly: 

"It's not his call to make. Superman has no standing here." 

"Lex..." says Clark, in a tone that mixes warning with a plea. 

Batman looks from one to the other. The League has the building surrounded. If it comes to a fight with the Justice Lords, it's a coin toss as to who will win. But judging from Lex's expression, it's not going to come to that. 

"Farewell, Superman," says Lex, and leaps straight into the chasm, his eyes never leaving Clark's face. Bruce is also looking at Clark. He knows what that expression means. 

When the Justice Lords are de-powered and arrested, and the League has made their weary way back to the Watchtower, Flash says: 

"Lex...that was something, wasn't it? Who'd have thought he'd sacrifice himself like that?" 

"He's always claimed to be acting for the good of the world," says Wonder Woman. "Tonight, he actually did." 

Clark says nothing, but his jaw is set and Bruce doesn't like what that signifies. When the others have gone, he says: 

"Don't go searching for him." 

Clark looks up, startled. Bruce says: 

"Lex sought out martyrdom for the same reason he has always sought power: arrogance." 

Clark frowns: 

"If he's stranded in some dimension, we can't leave him there." 

_Yes, we goddamn well can_. But there's no point saying it; the die is cast. If he senses that Bruce disapproves, Clark will search for Lex in secret. Which is ultimately what happens. Bruce is achingly aware of every unexplained absence, every minute of Clark's unaccounted time. 

Three months later, Clark returns from a remote and wild dimension, a bone-thin and exhausted Lex in tow. 

"You might have told us you were looking for him," Green Lantern says, sharply. "This means more trouble." 

"He's changed," says Clark, simply. "I'm taking him home." 

And from there, everything changes. Lex makes no move to reclaim the presidency from President Ross, and retires from public life. He is rarely seen. 

Except by Clark. 

* * *

Bruce turns on the laptop that connects to his personal surveillance system, the one the League doesn't know about, the one that shows views of every room in the Luthor penthouse. 

Clark lands on the balcony and sets Lex down; Lex opens the bulletproof glass doors and walks straight towards the bar, as though his sole priority is getting a drink. He's pretending, of course. This is part of their courtship ritual. 

Before Lex reaches the bar, Clark is on him, has spun him around and pressed him against the wall. Lex tilts his head back, smirking, exposing the pale arc of his throat. Clark kisses him there first, slides a hand down to his hip and Lex buries his fingers in Clark's hair. 

Clark undoes buttons until Lex is bare to the waist. Then he kneels, and gathers Lex towards him, burying his face in Lex's stomach. Lex rests his hands on Clark's shoulder and bites his lip. 

In a moment, Clark will pick Lex up and carry him to the bedroom. Bruce has watched them have sex for hours, in every position, every possibility explored. They fuck like they've been starving for it for years, every time. 

But it's less the sex that hurts Bruce, than the expressions on their faces. The open, aching need on Lex's face; Lex who is always so composed, so closed off. 

And Clark's face...when he's with Lex, it's like his very bone structure changes, as though he shakes off Superman altogether and reverts to a younger self. The world is off his shoulders; Lex is in his arms. 

There's a blur of colour on the screen, which is Clark speeding them both to the bedroom. Bruce switches to a view of downtown Metropolis instead. His head throbs. 

* * *

The Joker has assembled another Royal Flush Gang, which means the League has to rush from Gotham to Metropolis to Las Vegas, defusing bomb after bomb and getting civilians out of the way. Bruce gets no sleep for three days and vaguely recalls some milky coffee as his last meal. 

When the Joker is back in Arkham, the League exhaustedly regroups at the Watchtower. Even Diana looks tired. 

"Go home," says Flash, waving his hand at the group. "It's my turn on watch, anyway." 

"Will you be all right?" asks Superman. 

"Sure, Supes. I'm still coming down from my last two frappuccinos." 

"I'll relieve you in four hours," says J'onn, and sinks gravely through the floor. 

The others scatter. Bruce watches Clark walk to the teleport deck. 

Bruce turns on his laptop and checks the penthouse. Lex is pacing, waiting. He rarely sleeps without Clark, even if Clark is gone for several days. In a moment, Clark will sweep through the window and Lex will pretend he's been reading or working; Clark will politely honour the pretense before rushing Lex to bed. 

Bruce closes the laptop; he doesn't want to watch them tonight. He ducks into one of the Watchtower bedrooms, as neutral and anonymous as a hotel room, and falls asleep to the thrum of the spaceship's heart and the distant sound of Flash singing along to the radio. 

* * *

Angry voices wake him, footsteps pelting along the corridor. He hears Flash say: "But you _can't_..." Bruce leaps to his feet, straightening his cowl. 

Flash gives him a mute look of appeal as he crosses the bridge. This is going to be difficult. Green Arrow has finally returned from one of his walk-abouts and he hadn't known about Clark and Lex, until just this moment, apparently. Bruce glares at Wally, who shrugs an apology: 

"He asked where Supes was and I forgot he didn't know..." 

Oliver wheels to face Bruce: 

"How could you let this happen?" 

"Would you care to be more specific?" 

Oliver says: 

"Lex is _fucking_ Clark. And you're standing back and allowing it?" 

"How is this my concern?" says Bruce, giving him nothing. 

"Luthor's clearly got some hold over him..." 

"That's what I thought at first," interjects Flash. "But, G.A., they seem to really like each other. And trust me, there are benefits to having Lex otherwise occupied. With him out of the picture, the workload's gotten a lot lighter and-" 

Oliver waves him off. 

"You," he stares imploringly at Bruce. "You _know_ Lex. And you know Clark. Not as long as I have, of course-" 

He had to get that dig in there, thinks Bruce. 

"You know this will destroy Clark. And you didn't stop it?" 

"Superman is not so easily destroyed," says Bruce. 

Oliver stares at him. 

"Well, I'm not going to sit back and-" 

"Yes, you are." 

Oliver squares his shoulders. 

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Wayne." 

"Guys!" says Flash. "Secret Identities! You're not even trying." 

Bruce says nothing. The next step is pre-determined. Might as well dispense with the posturing and get to it. 

"You may not care what happens to Superman," says Oliver. "But I do. I'm stopping this." 

And with that, he is gone. 

"Hey, I care what happens to Supes," says Flash, indignantly. He adds: "Though I'm fairly indifferent what happens to Lex." 

Bruce checks the monitor on his wristband. Yes, as he expected. 

"Bats? Are we going to warn Superman?" 

"There's no need," says Bruce. "I'll handle it." 

* * *

Generally, Bruce prefers to spy on Clark and Lex from afar. There are only a few vantage points to see directly into the penthouse and he knows all of them. He takes up his position next to the Planet's Globe, and waits. 

Lex is sitting on the sofa, a book in his hand. Clark is sprawled across him, sound asleep, his hair tousled. Lex turns a page in his book, and pauses to gently pass a hand across Clark's cheek. 

Bruce waits until he sees the shadow of the poised arrow, aimed directly at Lex's forehead. 

He tackles Oliver and has him pinned in seconds, the arrow tossed aside, landing deftly on the "P" in "Planet." 

"I was only going to break the window," says Oliver, sullenly. 

"And once you were inside?" says Bruce. "What was next on the agenda? A tea party with Luthor?" 

"You know Lex. He's plotting something." 

Bruce had thought this too at first, had pinned his hopes on Lex reverting to form, and Clark needing Bruce's help. But the months have proved him wrong and now he sees the flaw in his reasoning. Lex doesn't need to plot. He _has_ what he wants, what he's always wanted. He has Clark. 

He takes his foot off Oliver's chest. 

"You have a place around here?" 

Oliver sits up, pointedly rubbing his elbow. 

"Yes." 

"I could use a drink." 

* * *

They have their drinks. Oliver takes off his hood and leans back tiredly in his chair. 

"I know how Clark feels about Lex and how Lex feels about Clark. This isn't possible." 

Bruce regards him with some incredulity. Not to have seen it? Really? 

When Bruce was weighing whether or not to join the League, he'd investigated every aspect of Clark's past and found Lex threaded straight through it. Clark's past was Lex's past. They'd been close as friends and just as close as enemies and the conclusion was glaringly, almost pathetically obvious. Lex's insistence on staying in Smallville, the vast amount of time and money devoted to Clark, the research and investigations, and eventually the shared girlfriend passed back and forth between them.... 

"It was never about me," Kara had told him, with a chuckle. "I get that now. Lex investigated me for a while. But you know Lex, all roads lead to Clark with him." 

And Bruce had begun to reluctantly understand that this was not a one-way obsession. Clark also kept coming back to Lex, after the Lana debacle, after Lionel's death, long past the point of reason. Because, of course, reason wasn't the driving force here. Just as Lex had temporarily transferred his Clark-attention to Lana - after Lex's disappearance, Clark would briefly fixate on Mercy, in her guise as Tess. They were inextricably braided together, bound by layers of love, fury, need and fate. Oliver never stood a chance. Nor did Bruce. 

Oliver says: 

"Luthor's a monster." 

Bruce cocks his head: 

"A monster you took a hand in making. I know about Excelsior, and how you thought a boy who had just lost his mother and brother was a suitable target for your bullying." 

Oliver flushes: 

"That was....I'm sorry for that. I told him once. I'm not the same person." 

Bruce goes in for the kill: 

"And how many times have you taken shots at Lex in recent years?" 

"To protect Clark!" 

"To have Clark for yourself." 

Oliver hits him. Bruce was expecting it but he still reels back. It feels good. It's what he needs; he's been waiting for an outlet. 

He throws Oliver up against the marble wall and holds him there. 

"Bruce..." There are tears in Oliver's eyes. "I'm sorry. It's just that it's _Clark_...." 

Bruce kisses him, hard. Oliver, startled, gulps into his mouth and braces himself against the wall trying to push Bruce off. Bruce takes a step back. Oliver's eyes flash, the very picture of blond indignation. He runs a hand through his spiky hair. This is Oliver's "tell." He's buying time, assessing his situation. 

Bruce has no patience for it: 

"Shall I go?" 

He waits for Oliver's surrender, and gets it. 

"No." 

It would be different, with Clark. He and Oliver are, after all, merely two humans. Clark would be both dark and golden. Oliver, undressed, has skin of monotonous honeyed perfection. His skin is hot under Bruce's hands and he isn't at all pleased to find himself face down on his own bed. Bruce says: 

"Stay there." 

There's a faint disobedient ripple of muscle across Oliver's back, from shoulder to buttock, but he doesn't actually move. Bruce finishes undressing and says: 

"Where?" 

"Table." 

The bedside table drawer is a tribute to Oliver's line in seduction; scented oils for the women, lube for the men, multi-coloured condoms for everyone. Bruce chooses the plainest lube and the largest condom and begins to work Oliver's ass with his finger. Oliver hisses. 

He must have imagined this scenario playing out with Clark. Is Oliver pretending Bruce is Clark right now? Possibly. His eyes are clenched shut. 

Bruce had intended - hoped for - a quick, rough fuck. But Oliver is very tight and probably used to being exclusively on top. Bruce is angry, and in sore need of working off some of that anger, but he's no rapist. Tearing up Oliver's ass would only be a short term catharsis. 

Bruce takes Oliver by the hips and, not gently, pulls him up. He wraps his arm around Oliver's chest; Oliver grunts at Bruce's first push, then pushes back to get more. Bruce is restraining himself but Oliver wants it rough. Wants the pain, perhaps wants to punish himself for his ache for Clark and his hatred for Lex. He wants to be hurt. 

And Bruce is prepared to accommodate him, to an extent. 

He slams Oliver into the bed and plunges into him. Tight, tight ass, like fucking his own clenched fist. Clark would feel like this, even better. Bruce bites the back of Oliver's neck, gets a moan in response, then closes his eyes and drives himself home. At some point, Oliver comes, but Bruce doesn't care about that. He forces Oliver's thighs further apart, drives in deep enough to elicit a pained yelp, and comes with Clark's laughter echoing in his ears, Clark's face behind his eyes. 

When it's over, he immediately gets up and walks over to his costume. 

Oliver, still panting, sits up: 

"Bruce..." 

Bruce doesn't turn around. 

"Stay? Just for a bit?" 

Oliver's hand is light and tentative on his arm. If Oliver wasn't asking instead of demanding, if he didn't suddenly sound very young... 

Bruce silently gets back in the bed, and doesn't yank himself away, when Oliver cautiously moves towards him. It's just for one night. Even if it's the wrong person, it's good to share a bed with a warm body, just for a night. 

* * *

Bruce leaves, just before dawn; he returns to his look-out point, to check in on Clark. 

Clark and Lex are asleep, facing each other, their heads on the same pillow. Bruce takes a closer look through his bat-scope. They even seem to be breathing in unison, almost drawing breath from each other. Lex is curled towards Clark; when Lex stirs and shifts, Clark is instantly alert. 

Lex blinks awake and looks astonished, as he always does, to find Clark beside him. Clark smiles and rolls onto his back, pulling Lex on top of him. Clark's hands look huge, splayed across Lex's pale back. Lex is fully awake now, and aroused; he bends to kiss Clark as one of Clark's hands drifts down to squeeze his ass. There's a tiny blur, which is Clark using his super-speed to get the lube, then Lex rolls on his side, his eyes half-closed like a languorous cat, while Clark plays with his ass. 

After a few minutes, Lex is impatient and tries to back himself onto Clark's cock. Clark kisses Lex's neck, puts a hand on his hip, and keeps Lex still until he's ready. 

Then Clark lies on his back and smiles, waiting for Lex to straddle him; Lex eases himself gently down and they fuck slowly. Clark's hands are clasped around Lex's hips, lifting him up and then driving him down on Clark's cock. Lex's mouth slackens, his body relaxes; he's relying on Clark to hold him upright. Only his thighs keep going, riding Clark's cock through a long, shivery orgasm. 

Clark grins again as Lex comes; he dips his finger into the splash of white on his chest and tastes it, then rolls Lex onto his side. Bruce has watched Clark come a hundred times now, and it never fails to hurt and excite him simultaneously. Clark closes his eyes, throws his head back, and then pushes one last time deep into Lex, burying his face in Lex's neck, robbing Bruce of seeing his face at the moment of orgasm. He does this every single time, hiding the one moment Bruce yearns to see. 

Bruce leaves. If the sex can be endured, the aftermath of breakfast, pajama bottoms and sleepy smiles, cannot. The intimacy is too much to be borne. 

Instead, he watches the sun rise from home, from the rooftops of Gotham. 

When Clark had finally told the League that he and Lex were together, Bruce had carefully watched each face in turn. Wally's jaw had dropped, but he'd quickly defaulted to his standard optimism: if Superman could love Lex, there must be good in him, therefore this is good news, right? 

Not a flicker of reaction from J'onn, unsurprisingly. 

Green Lantern had frowned, but his soldier's training had prevented an emotional reaction. He was already thinking of what this would mean in practical terms for the League. So was Hawkgirl. 

Each of them was watching Clark as he spoke. Only Wonder Woman had looked at Bruce. She had nearly caught him with his guard down, just for a moment. 

And now, as he watches the sky fade from grey to pink, there is a soft thump behind him. It's Diana, coming in for a landing. 

"You've been putting in a lot of extra hours," she says. She's not chiding; she never does. It's merely an observation. Bruce doesn't answer. 

"Was there trouble with Green Arrow?" 

"It's settled," says Bruce. 

They stand in silence, for a while. Diana says: 

"In Themyscira, it's much simpler. Hades is a villain because he always has been, since the very beginning. That's his role and I treat him accordingly. But for Superman, and for you, it's not always so simple. Your villains haven't always been villains; they have histories." 

Bruce thinks of Lionel Luthor; files from the Lionel era form the bulk of his research on Lex. They are harrowing to read; it had probably been a mistake to let Clark see them. Even having known Lionel, he hadn't guessed the full extent of what Lex had gone through..... 

"It creates a bond, a shared history," says Diana, thoughtfully. "Even in the short lifespan of a mortal." 

This is what Bruce had been reluctant to understand: Clark is bonded to Lex and Lex is bonded to Clark. Denying the bond made Clark miserable and Lex dangerous; now Clark is happy, and Lex finally seems to have achieved some kind of equilibrium. 

Lex doesn't deserve Clark, but Clark deserves to get what he wants, and he wants Lex. It's the best of all possible worlds, unless you happen to love Clark. 

"Batman?" It's J'onn on the com-link. "Wonder Woman?" 

"We're here," answers Diana. 

"We have a situation. Gorilla City reports that Grodd has obtained a series of powerful missiles..." 

"We'll be right there," says Diana. 

"I'm on my way," says Clark's voice over the com-link, and Bruce's heart lifts. Lex may have Clark in the bedroom, but in battle, he fights side by side with Bruce. There's an intimacy in that, a side that Lex Luthor doesn't get to see. 

It's not nearly enough. But it's something. 

"You coming, Batman?" says Clark. 

"I'll be there," says Bruce. 

Always. 


End file.
